Tyrus nodded. “As he must.” And that, Moria knew, was how he would make sense of this. Gavril was doing his filial duty. It did not make him a good person or mean that he was not now Tyrus’s enemy, nor that he was less culpable of the evil he might do. It was simply the only way to accept that his old friend could do these things and not be a monster. Which was what Tyrus needed. What they both needed.
FORTY-FIVE
As they walked through the shadowy forest, Moria tilted her head to listen and heard only the rustle of wind in the leaves. “It’s quiet here.”
“Very. You’re in the western provinces. Beyond the trees, you’d see the Katakana Mountains.”
“Where the Kitsunes are from.”
“Exactly. Also not far from Lord Okami’s compound, which is almost a day’s ride in that direction. In this direction” – he hooked his thumb toward the camp – “you’d be in the ocean by sunrise. Go that way” – he pointed left – “and you’d land in Lake Shiko. The other way? An ocean inlet.”
“Which means the Kitsunes have chosen an isolated location with one way in or out. This forest.”
He nodded. “That’s why it was a good location for a camp. But after a decade of peace, it was abandoned, and it’s been empty almost ten summers. Lord Okami had already figured out that this was the most likely spot for Alvar Kitsune to be holed up. When I reached him, he was preparing to send men to investigate, so he could notify my father.”
“Are his men nearby, then?”
“A few. Beyond the forest. That’s where Alvar’s guards were. Okami’s men helped me deal with them. Now they are out there keeping watch. The forest itself, as you see, is empty. As long as you are correct, and Gavril doesn’t raise the alarm, it’s likely to stay that way.”
“He won’t.”
“If he does, we’ll hear it. I’ve caught the bells signaling every meal. It’s so quiet out here that it’s impossible not to hear them.”
So quiet…
Like the Forest of the Dead. Which was not the way a forest should be at all, as she’d learned from her travels.
“Have you heard or seen anything?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I suspect Alvar’s been here long enough to empty the forest of prey. That’s one disadvantage to his situation. He can’t simply travel to the nearest town and purchase enough supplies for an army.”
When they stepped into a clearing, she looked up to see the dark shape of a bat flitting past. Not empty, then. Just very, very quiet.
Tyrus adjusted his grip on her hand and cleared his throat. “A lot has happened since you were taken. I’m not sure how much of it you know.”
“None. I wasn’t exactly an honored guest, privy to rumors and news.”
He looked at her sharply. “You ought to have been. Not privy to news, I mean. But an honored guest. I presumed… You are a Keeper and surely Gavril…”
“I was not a Keeper within those walls. I was a prisoner and Gavril’s responsibility, one he —” She shook her head. “I just want to be out of this forest, and as far from this place as I can get.”
He took her other hand, tugged the dagger from it, and tucked it into his own belt as he pulled her to a stop in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked up at him. “For what?”
“We did not…” He inhaled sharply. “No, I’ll accept responsibility for this. Full responsibility. I did not come after you immediately, Moria. I presumed Gavril… I was certain he would care for you.”
Moria saw the guilt in his eyes and hurried on with a lie. “It was not a pleasant experience, but I was not mistreated. Gavril saw to that. I —”
Daigo cut her off with a growl.
“Yes, I know,” Tyrus said to the wildcat. “You’re right. This isn’t the time for —”
He stopped again as Daigo peered suddenly into the dark forest, his long tail puffing as it swished.
“He hears something,” Moria whispered.
Tyrus handed Moria her dagger and took out his sword. But when they went still, all they could pick up was Daigo’s growling.
Shadow stalkers.
The thought had flitted through her mind earlier, and she hadn’t entertained it because her gut had told her she was mistaken. While it was possible that Alvar would keep his shadow stalkers here, she detected none of the negative spiritual energy she’d felt in the Forest of the Dead. The strum of spirit life was weak but present.
Yet something must be out there or Daigo wouldn’t keep growling. Some predator afoot. One that frightened every living thing into hiding.
She looked up, thinking of the thunder hawk, but this dense forest would be a poor place for a bird the size of a house. It needed open ground.
Speaking of ground… She glanced down, but again, it was the wrong terrain. No death worms could live beneath these thick roots.
“Moria?” Tyrus whispered. “Talk to me.”
Tell me what you’re thinking.
She didn’t know what to say. She feared if she put her thoughts into words, he’d think her foolish. Like Gavril. Mocking her for her stories and her imagination.
“Moria…”
Tyrus leaned against her, his hand on her waist, his breath warm against the side of her head, both the touch and the whisper of breath reassuring. You can talk to me. I’m not Gavril. I don’t mock.